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I needed him to stay that way.
He was far too handsome to be anything more than that.
That was dangerous territory.
“Well, that’s the last time I get into this truck,” I quipped.
Hugo laughed, got into the truck on the other side of the cab, and started the engine. He backed it up across the sprawling driveway, missing the fountain expertly, drove down the road until the gravel became asphalt.
“So. The mini lorry?” I asked, breaking the silence that had settled between us.
He laughed quietly. “Our estate is eight hundred acres. Not all the areas have access via roads, and sometimes, it’s quicker to get to some of the farms by not going on the main roads. Dirt tracks can be rough and although we have a few four-wheel drives, they don’t always have enough space for stuff we need.”
It was hard to argue with that. “All right. That makes sense, I suppose. How many farms do you have on the land?”
“Right now? About six. There are a couple we aren’t renting out at the moment because the properties aren’t up to code, but we rent that land out to other local farmers who are all too happy to use it. The six we do have are quite a lot of work. We’re pretty involved in it.”
“Really? I can’t imagine you mucking out horses.”
“I can’t say I do.” Laughter bubbled out of him. “I’ve helped with the muckier work, though, and Dad made me take a course in some animal care stuff because we don’t have a local vet for twenty miles.”
“Not at all?”
“Well, we have a usual vet who sees cats and dogs, but not a farm vet.”
“That seems like a terrible oversight, given how many you have.”
He inclined his head in my direction. “You’re not wrong. We really do need to get one out here for emergencies.”
“What kind of mucky stuff do you do? I can’t imagine anyone in your family that I’ve met getting down and dirty at the business end of a cow, for example.”
He glanced over at me as he pulled up at a red light. “Well, my mother doesn’t.”
“I am completely and utterly shocked by that.”
“I know. Everyone who meets her is.”
I dipped my chin and fought back a laugh. Were we… getting along? “Did your Grandma or sister ever do it?”
“How do you know I have a sister?”
“I… might have Googled your family before I came,” I admitted, slowly nodding my head. “I wanted some kind of idea what Camilla had put me up to.”
“Ah, that’s fair. But you didn’t know who I was in the pub, did you?”
I shook my head. “I didn’t do that much research. I literally read a bio of your family, read about the estate and house, and left.”
He chuckled and turned down the road that would lead to the cottage. “Makes sense. To answer your question, yes. Grandma used to ride horses, and she would get in at the dirty end. She’d still do it now if her arthritis would let her. Helena did the same with horses when we were younger, but it was mostly because Dad wanted her to learn some responsibility.”
“What about now?”
“Well, Helena and her husband live on the estate on one of the farms. She runs a riding school, and Ed handles the chickens and ducks.” He pulled up alongside Bluebell Cottage and looked over at me. “You know my mum will never approve that menu, don’t you?”
I nodded slowly, grimacing. “I figured I’d email it to Nancy, tell her Evelyn won’t budge, and let her deal with it.”
“Smart. Although it could start a riot as soon as Mum’s back from London.”
“That’s fine. I won’t be here then.”
